


Steak in the Dark

by Keiko Kirin (sakana17)



Series: Steak [4]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-02-12
Updated: 2001-02-12
Packaged: 2017-10-03 03:44:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakana17/pseuds/Keiko%20Kirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one with the psychotropic mine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steak in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> For Lynn, Kathy, and Mandalee. Thanks to J, L and K for ideas and encouragement.

Jack's lips tasted salty, sweaty, and Daniel consumed them with another fierce kiss. He urged them to part and plunged his tongue between them to plunder the rich, wet heat inside. And, oh god, Jack's mouth tasted of steak. Perfect juicy sirloin, a hint of pepper, the tang of beer, all mixing with Jack's indescribable, indefinable taste. The mix drove Daniel mad with lust, even moreso than the rough, greedy strokes of Jack's hands over his back. He pressed harder, his full erection trapped against Jack's.

Jack broke from the kiss and grabbed Daniel's hips. He attacked that certain spot on Daniel's neck with bites -- gnawing, more like -- and whispered hoarsely, "Do me. Now."

Daniel didn't need to be told twice. He shuddered, licked that spot behind Jack's ear that made Jack growl (he did), and took hold of Jack's boxer shorts. He pulled them off in one quick move and threw them across the room, and Jack arched for him. Daniel spared a moment to admire Jack so restless, so horny, so wanting it. So hard for it his cock was slick and flat against his belly. Swallowing a primal groan of desire, Daniel slid between his legs, fit to him, and thrust. One smooth, perfect thrust that took Jack's breath away in gasps. And Jack, really wanting it, thrust back as Daniel rammed home. Again, and again, and--

"Daniel?"

And--

"Daniel?"

Daniel opened his eyes and blinked at an out-of-focus lamp. Sam let go of his shoulder. "Daniel?"

Daniel sat up and rubbed his face. A shiver ran down his spine. He swallowed and looked around his office, getting his bearings.

Watching him, Sam frowned, concerned. "Are you all right?" she asked. He didn't look all right. Even in the low, ambient lighting of his office, his face looked flushed, and the way he was hugging the desk made it seem like he'd lost his balance. She touched his shoulder lightly. He shivered again. She wondered if she should call the infirmary.

Daniel blinked up at her. "I'm all right," he said. "I just dozed off, that's all."

"You're sure you feel okay?" She thought back over the last couple of days, trying to think of any possible contagions that might be loose in the SGC.

"I'm sure," he said, shifting restlessly in his chair, and rearranging a couple of books on his desk. "Was there something you wanted?"

Sam let her hand drop from his shoulder. "It's lunchtime. We were going have lunch today, remember? Go over those field notes from P3R-267."

Daniel glanced up at her, and it was obvious he had forgotten. Sam was again concerned; that wasn't like him. And dozing off in his office... Maybe stress had finally caught up with him.

Daniel's eyes darted back to his desk, and he shifted in his chair again. "Oh, right," he said. "I'll be there in a minute, okay? I'll meet you there."

Sam gave him a last look, watched him rearrange his books yet again, and left. She hadn't seen him this restless since they'd encountered the addictive light, she thought grimly, reviewing where they'd been and what they'd been in contact with the last few days.

The commissary was quiet. It was 3 p.m., today's lunchtime for Sam and Daniel and a dozen or so other SGC personnel. The special was baked fish (again). Daniel had the soup and contemplated the Boston creme pie for a moment before joining Sam at one of the tables. She had the soup, too. Reports, charts, and index cards surrounded her bowl. He sat opposite her, added his notebook and photographs to the mix, and focused his thoughts on P3R-267 and its stratigraphic layers.

While they ate, they discussed the planet, made a few educated guesses to add to their final reports, and agreed on what to suggest to General Hammond at their next briefing. Daniel was almost finished with his soup when Sam asked, after an interval of silence, "Have you been sleeping okay?"

Daniel frowned. "Why?"

Sam's look of concern worried him. He knew that look all too well, and usually saw it right before he was seized with convulsions or inundated with hallucinations under some alien influence.

"It's not like you to doze off in your office in the middle of the day. Not while there's coffee still in the pot," she added with a smile.

Daniel relaxed a little. "Oh. That. I'm sorry. I have been a little tired lately. It's nothing."

She nodded, accepting the answer. He watched her move her spoon around in the soup bowl, and had a disconcerting urge to tell her more. Instead he gathered up his photographs into a neat pile.

"The Colonel said you had a cook-out at his place last Sunday."

Daniel froze for a second. He slowly closed his notebook and looked at her, cautious. "He did?"

"Didn't you?" Sam looked puzzled.

Daniel sat back. "Oh. Yes, I did. So, he told you." His fingers had found his pen and were moving it around and back and around and back.

Sam slid some charts into a folder. "You know, I'm glad about that. This will sound strange, and I probably shouldn't say this, but sometimes I can't help but worry about him."

Daniel furrowed his brow. "Really?"

Sam shrugged and smiled. "Yeah, I know, it sounds funny, doesn't it?" She leaned forward a little and lowered her voice. "But don't you ever get the feeling..." She paused and looked into his eyes. "No. I shouldn't be talking about him like this."

Daniel leaned forward, too. "I won't say anything," he promised. "Get the feeling what?"

Sam's cheeks flushed a little. She looked... Guilty, Daniel realized, surprised. She looked guilty.

"Get the feeling he's a little lonely?" she said in a voice barely above a whisper.

Daniel watched her steadily and didn't say anything. She glanced around again. "I know, I shouldn't be talking about this. But to be honest..." If anything, her guilty look got worse. "...I wanted to say thanks for going over there and keeping him company."

Daniel swallowed. "Thanks?" he asked. He gripped his pen tightly.

Sam nodded, looking down at the table for a moment. "Please don't tell him I told you this. He asked me to go fishing with him. Twice. I never did, but..."

Daniel rubbed the cap of his pen between thumb and forefinger. "It made you feel uncomfortable?"

Sam let out a breath, obviously relieved. "Yes. Thank you." She sat back, looked at him curiously for a moment, and said, "He asked you, too?"

Daniel adjusted his glasses. "Uh, yes."

She was still watching him curiously. Daniel calmed himself and worked on keeping his face expressionless. "Only once," he added.

Sam nodded. "See? He's lonely."

_And I'm not?_ Daniel thought sourly for a second, before pushing that old hurt aside. He arranged his pile of photographs neatly over his notebook. Raising one eyebrow, he said, "Oh, I don't know. He takes Teal'c to movies."

Sam's eyes widened. "He does?" she asked.

"And he took Teal'c fishing," he reminded her.

Sam looked at him. He looked at her. "Poor Teal'c," they said simultaneously.

\-----

The briefing on P3R-267 was going to be Jack's favorite kind: short and sweet. No remaining intelligent life there to raise sticky problems with communication and diplomacy; just a bunch of rocks. And Carter and Daniel had already worked out their plan of attack for going back to 267 to get up close and personal with those rocks, he knew. A couple of days ago, he had passed by the commissary and seen them hunched over their reports together, in cahoots.

In fact, if he hadn't known they were talking about rocks, the scene would have looked more than chummy, the way they were leaning over the table and murmuring together. Jack, waiting for the elevator, thought about that for a minute. More than chummy? Could there be--?

Nah, he decided. Daniel wasn't attracted to Carter.

The elevator arrived, and Sergeant Siler and a technician whose name Jack could never remember exited, lugging some heavy piece of equipment between them. Jack stepped inside, pressed the button, and had second thoughts: what proof did he have that Daniel wasn't attracted to Carter? Was he making that assumption because Daniel had spent the night with him last Sunday? Assumptions were never safe. And Daniel spending the night with him said absolutely nothing about Daniel's attraction (or lack thereof) to Carter.

The elevator stopped and Jack got out. Hands buried in pockets, he wandered down the hallway, searching for more proof. Okay. Carter looked nothing like Sha're, if Sha're could be used as a barometer for determining Daniel's taste in women. Jack idly chewed the inside of his lip, pondering. On the other hand, Carter had blonde hair, and so had Kira. Then again, Carter had her memory intact and no identity problems. He was back to Sha're, but it was hard to base any theories on her, because Daniel's life on Abydos was literally another world. Okay. He had no real evidence from which to determine what Daniel's taste in women was.

So he tried to figure out what Daniel's taste in people was, and this didn't make him particularly happy. Carter and Daniel had that whole geek-bonding thing going for them. Plus, Carter was brilliant, probably the most brilliant scientist in SGC (Jack thought with a touch of pride for his team), and he couldn't discount the brain appeal. They could talk rocks together.

He spotted Teal'c ahead in the corridor and walked a little faster, falling into place next to him. "Hey, Teal'c. How's it going?"

Teal'c walked with his hands behind his back and gave a little nod. "It is going fine, O'Neill." They followed the corridor together, stepping aside for more technicians lugging heavy equipment, and not even blinking when the klaxons and flashing lights started, heralding, they both hoped, another SG team's arrival home.

O'Neill wished to talk about something, Teal'c could tell. He waited patiently as they walked. He sincerely hoped that O'Neill did not intend to ask him to another movie. He was not sure the kel-no-reem excuse would continue to work without O'Neill becoming suspicious.

O'Neill's pace slowed a little. "I saw Carter and Daniel having lunch together the other day," he said.

"It is my observation that Major Carter and Daniel Jackson frequently lunch together," Teal'c responded after O'Neill said nothing further. Teal'c was uncertain what the significance of this conversation was.

"Do you think they're..." O'Neill glanced sideways at Teal'c and shrugged. "Do you see any... sparkage there?"

Teal'c looked ahead and considered his reply carefully. After a thorough review of all the interaction he had witnessed between Major Carter and Daniel Jackson, he said, "No." O'Neill's steps had further slowed and he came to a stop. Teal'c walked on so he would not be late for their briefing.

Everyone but the General was already seated at the briefing table when Jack came in and slid into his seat next to Carter. She was smiling confidently and had a stack of reports in front of her. Jack clasped his hands over the table and glanced over at Daniel, who was frowning as he held up some photos for closer inspection. Jack tapped the table with his fingertips, and checked on Teal'c, who sat there patiently. He glanced at Daniel again, who was now circling something on one of the photographs and licking his lips. Jack carefully moved his gaze away from Daniel's lips and turned just as General Hammond walked into the room.

"Your mission to 267 is canceled," he announced without bothering to sit down. Jack saw it all in Hammond's worried face: bad news, whatever it was.

"Why?" Daniel asked.

"SG-11 went back to P9A-933 seventy-two hours ago to collect the first shipment of trinium in our arrangement with the inhabitants. They have not reported in. Since you were the first contact team, I want SG-1 to go in and find out what's happened to our people. Get suited up and ready. This is a rescue mission, but I'd like to keep it peaceful if at all possible."

Oh great. 933. Not Jack's favorite planet by a long stretch. No short and sweet this time.

\-----

The event horizon disengaged, and SG-1 stepped down from the stargate platform.

"There's the MALP," Sam said, going over to it and checking it out. "No signs of damage, sir."

Jack put on his sunglasses and nodded. "Good. Carter, Teal'c, you check out the mines we saw last time. Daniel and I will go see the head village guy, whatshisface."

"Tarbo," Daniel put in, adjusting his hat.

"Yeah, him."

Sam and Teal'c nodded and headed off in the direction of the hills. Jack waited for Daniel, and they walked in a straight path from the stargate. Daniel hated being back here. The planet of the happy death camps, as he thought of it. He and Jack had argued for days the last time they were here. SG-11's disappearance was a bad sign, and Daniel wasn't at all happy he'd been right about this place.

The walk to the village was over four miles. Jack had established a steady pace, not too fast, not too slow. Cautious. Alert. They walked in silence for about a mile.

This was not the time or place, Daniel knew. He was risking the worst of Jack's temper if he brought it up. But he couldn't control his curiosity, and they had over three more miles to go. It was a long walk for silence.

"So," he said. "You told Sam about the cook-out."

"Yeah."

Not good. He couldn't tell from Jack's voice if that was a good 'yeah' or a bad 'yeah'. Daniel locked his teeth together and said nothing. After a few more yards, Jack elaborated, "She asked me if I had a nice weekend. I said yes, I had a cook-out with Daniel."

"I see." He glanced at Jack, and cursed those damn sunglasses Jack was wearing.

"That's all I said. You didn't..." Jack slowed for a moment. "You didn't honestly think I told her anything else?"

Now that he said it, it sounded ridiculous. Daniel's face burned, and he focused his attention on the path. "No. Of course not."

They walked on. After a while, Jack said, "So, you and Carter talked about the cook-out."

Daniel glanced over again. "She only said she was glad." He cut himself off before saying any more.

"Glad?"

Daniel didn't respond. Jack said, "Huh," more to himself than to Daniel, and kept walking. Daniel kept pace, moving his shoulders under the heavy backpack.

"I didn't mean..." he started, wondering how much to say. Finally he decided to say what was on his mind. "Look, it's like this. Ever since you mentioned that the entire mountain thinks I slept with Kira, I've been a little... bothered. I don't like the idea that my private life is a subject for gossip."

Jack walked a few paces before saying anything. "In-house gossip is one of the primary means of communication within a closed society," he stated. Daniel blinked at him. "Just something they teach you in the military. If it makes you feel any better, we're all subject to it. Except maybe Teal'c."

"It doesn't make me feel better," Daniel said. He clutched the straps of his backpack tightly and stared at a bush ahead on the path. After a moment, he said, "I think what bothers me more is that my private life has so much grist for the gossip mill."

There was a quiet pause, then Jack placed his hand on Daniel's shoulder, just for a few seconds. Daniel was silently grateful.

Jack shrugged. "Gossip's not pretty, and it can be dangerous. One reason to stay ahead of it. Besides, most of it isn't very interesting, just kinda depressing."

Too true. Daniel wondered, though, if the gossip mill would ever fixate on him and Jack. Yet another reason why spending the night with Jack was a not a good thing. It really was too much of a risk, in all respects. If only it hadn't felt pretty good -- awkward, but still pretty good -- at the time.

As they neared the village, the path became muddy. There were tracks in the dirt from the carts the miners used to haul trinium. All the cottages on the outer edge of the village were empty. Smoke curled up from a lone chimney.

Jack decided to scan each empty house, just in case, and made Daniel do the same.

"Daniel?"

Daniel looked over and Jack was standing in the doorway of a cottage, motioning for him. Daniel came up behind him.

"Isn't that Major Gonzalez from SG-11?" he asked, looking at the man slumped on the floor, staring into space, a happy grin plastered to his face.

Jack cursed under his breath and took off his sunglasses. They entered, ducking to get through the low doorway. A soft breeze carried the scent of smoke down the path and into the cottage.

Major Gonzalez moved his head from side to side, watching the colors take shape. Oh, look, there was Colonel O'Neill and Doctor Jackson from SG-1. He was so happy to see them. He smiled at them. He wanted to hug them. He loved them.

He loved everything. He was so happy now. And the Colonel and Jackson would be, too. All they had to do was mine. It was so much fun to mine. He had to tell them that, so they could be happy, but his mouth was numb and wouldn't form words. He gave up and grinned at them. He was so, so happy to see them.

The Colonel knelt next to him, and held Gonzalez's chin. He said something. It sounded like a bark and Gonzalez laughed. Then Jackson said something, and he looked like a fish. Gonzalez laughed again. He hugged Colonel O'Neill. He hugged Doctor Jackson's legs, since Jackson was still standing. Jackson stepped away and Gonzalez slid to the ground, which was spinning again. He laughed and could finally talk. He said, "I love you guys. Let's go to the mines." He smiled up at them, truly loving them, they were so beautiful and nice, until the colors started blurring again, fading to black.

Jack snapped his fingers in front of Gonzalez's face. He lifted one of Gonzalez's eyelids and let it close. "Out like a light." He looked around the bare cottage.

"Drugged?" Daniel guessed. He stepped closer and crouched on the other side of Gonzalez. "What did he say? Could you hear it?"

"Something about the mines," Jack said, staring at Gonzalez. He thought he'd heard Gonzalez say he loved them, but he couldn't have heard right. He thought over his options. "Okay. I want you to get back to the stargate and send a message through on the MALP. Tell them we need a medical team here, with a stretcher. We have to get him back to SGC. Wait for the team and bring them here."

He patted Gonzalez's cheek a few times. Gonzalez didn't respond. "You better hurry." Daniel stood up and unshouldered his backpack. "What are you going to do?" Daniel asked. Jack looked up at him.

"I'm going to find the rest of SG-11, and have a word with Taebo."

"Tarbo," Daniel corrected automatically.

"Whatever."

He watched Daniel go, double-checking that Daniel was armed. He turned to Gonzalez, tried rousing him again, then decided to start hunting for the rest of SG-11. As he stepped outside the hut, his radio crackled.

"O'Neill," Teal'c's voice came in over static, and he didn't sound like his normal, unflappable Teal'c self. "Major Carter appears to have been adversely affected by the mines. Are you in the village?"

"Yeah," Jack answered, frowning. God damn this planet. "Meet me here, bring Carter. Do you see anyone from SG-11?"

"I have found two members of SG-11," Teal'c responded. "They will not accompany me willingly."

"Leave them there for now. Just get Carter away from there. O'Neill out."

He stood and looked around at the empty cottages. Empty except for two: the one with Gonzalez, and the one Tarbo used as a kind of throne room. He debated going to confront Tarbo now, but decided to wait for Teal'c and Carter. He went back into the cottage and sat down next to Gonzalez, who was still deep in la-la land.

His lower back started to ache, so he tugged on Daniel's backpack to drag it over to use as a backrest. Jeez, it was heavy. Curious, he opened it up and found two notebooks (why Daniel needed to bring two was beyond Jack), a small video camera, a hieroglyphic dictionary with post-it notes sticking out all over, pens, pencils, brushes, and other assorted geek paraphernalia. Jack arranged the pack and leaned against it. He estimated the various times it would take for Teal'c and Carter, and for Daniel and the medical team, to get back. A while. Bored with watching Gonzalez's stupor, he fished out one of Daniel's notebooks, opened it at random, and read:   


> "The structure of the society is rigidly matriarchal and matrilinial. The   
>  names of the matriarchs are inscribed on the structures we took to be totem   
>  poles, and we were fortunate enough to observe the carving ceremony."

Beneath this was a sketch of something, neatly outlined. Jack leafed back a couple of pages to the beginning of the entry. Oh yeah, he remembered that planet. The planet of the bossy women who would only talk to Carter. He flicked ahead a few pages and came to the entry on 933.  


> "The society is based on the exploitation of manual laborers, the miners,   
>  who deliver all materials to the village feudal lord. The lord negotiates   
>  trade contracts with outside societies without consultation with the laborers,   
>  most of whom choose to live in work camps near the mines."

Jack lifted an eyebrow, closed this notebook, and reached for the other one. This one was filled with short notes and rough sketches. He flipped through it until he came to a page for 933:  


> "Death camps." ("Death" was underlined twice.) "Tarbo exploits for gain.   
>  Miners accept it." Jack noticed the difference in handwriting from the other   
>  notebook: hard, quick lines, haphazardly formed letters. He turned the page   
>  and saw: "J okay with it. Takes deal. We get trinium, they get death."

_Gee, Daniel, tell us what you really think_. Jack sighed and shut the notebook. He hadn't been okay with it, but they had orders from Hammond, and they needed trinium. Daniel knew all that. He _knew_ it. _J okay with it_.

"I was not," he said to the unconscious Gonzalez.

\-----

When Daniel returned to the village with the four man medical team, a curious sight greeted him: in front of the cottage where they had found Gonzalez, Sam was hugging Jack and singing. Off-key. As he approached, Teal'c emerged from the cottage, carrying Gonzalez.

"About time you got here," Jack said, extricating himself from Sam's embrace.

Daniel watched Sam make another grab at Jack. "What's going on?"

"What does it look like?" Jack said, exasperated. "The same thing that got Gonzalez has got Carter."

"Daniel!" Sam smiled at him and threw her arms around his neck. "I'm so happy to see you. You have to come to the mines."

Daniel held her arms and frowned. "Um, maybe some other time." Teal'c laid Gonzalez out on the stretcher the medical team had brought.

"Teal'c," Jack said, cocking his head at Daniel and Sam. Teal'c came over and took Sam's arms, guiding her away. Sam hugged him.

"Just don't let her start singing again," Jack said, wincing.

"What did Tarbo say?" Daniel asked, moving closer to Jack.

"Haven't seen him yet." He gestured at Sam and Teal'c. "Ran into a little problem."

Daniel looked around unhappily. Could this planet get any worse? "What are we going to do?"

Jack stepped forward. "You," he said, pointing to one of the medical team, "take her. You help him. You two carry Gonzalez back. Take them straight to the infirmary when you get there. And hurry, dammit!"

"Yes, sir," one of the men said, helping his colleague pry Sam away from Teal'c.

Jack turned to Daniel. "Now we go see that worm Tarbo."

Daniel fetched his backpack from the cottage and caught up with Teal'c and Jack as they reached Tarbo's cottage. Tarbo greeted them with a friendly smile and stood up from his elaborately decorated chair.

"My friends from SG-1! So nice to see you again."

"What are you doing to our people?" Jack demanded.

Tarbo's smile wavered. "I don't know what you mean."

"Yes, you do. What is in those damn mines?"

Tarbo's face went blank. Daniel watched him carefully. Tarbo said slowly, "Trinium, my friends. That is what you called it. I thought you wanted it."

"I'm not talking about the damn trinium," Jack said, words clipped and angry. "What _else_ is in those mines?"

Tarbo backed away, shaking his head, face blank and worried.

"Jack, he doesn't know," Daniel said evenly.

Jack turned around to face him. "What?"

Daniel tilted his head in Tarbo's direction, meeting Jack's gaze head-on. "Just look at him. He doesn't know what you're talking about."

Jack stared at him for another moment, took a quick look at Tarbo, then turned back to Daniel. He walked over to him, face tight, and gestured with his fingers. "Come here for a minute." He stepped outside the cottage. Daniel followed.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Jack started, and Daniel winced. Jack saying, 'Correct me if I'm wrong' was never a good sign. "Weren't you the one who said all along we shouldn't trust these people? Weren't you the one who said I shouldn't trust Tarbo? Shouldn't make an agreement?"

"Yes," Daniel said shortly, glaring at Jack.

"Didn't you say something like, 'don't trust appearances'?"

"Yes," Daniel ground out.

Jack's stare burned right through him. A cold burn, like ice. "That's what I thought." He started to turn around. Daniel grabbed his arm.

"Jack. I know what I said. And I still believe we made a mistake making an agreement with them. But Tarbo doesn't know what you're talking about. Just look at him."

Jack pulled his arm away, clenched his jaw, said nothing, and walked into the cottage.

Tarbo was standing behind his chair, clutching it, his eyes wide and fearful. Teal'c stood near him, looking threatening enough even without aiming his staff weapon. Tarbo's fire was dying in the hearth.

Jack let out a breath, gave Tarbo a good, hard look, and walked over to Teal'c. "What do you think?" he asked in a low voice. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Daniel enter the cottage and stand near the doorway, tense and cold.

Teal'c inclined his head. "I am in agreement with Daniel Jackson," he said quietly. "This man is afraid, but it is not the fear of a man concealing the truth."

Jack took another look at Tarbo. "Right. Kids, let's go. We'll have to come back for the rest of SG-11 with reinforcements and another medical team. Tarbo, our deal is off."

"But--" Tarbo began, then bit his lip as Jack frowned.

"Our deal is off. Over. Kaputt. Understand?"

"Y-yes." Tarbo nodded.

Jack shot a warning look at Daniel, who didn't react, and stalked out of the cottage. He made good time on the path to the stargate. He couldn't get off this planet soon enough. If Teal'c and Daniel couldn't keep up, that was their problem.

No, it wasn't. It was his problem. They were his team. He glanced back, saw them both right behind him. They could keep up. Good.

Some yards later, he became aware of Daniel at his shoulder. "Jack," Daniel said in that fake neutral tone that he supposed Daniel thought hid any real feelings, but which revealed more than Daniel knew.

"Whatever it is, I don't want to hear it right now." He tried not to bark, he really did, but he wasn't sure he was successful.

Daniel apparently interpreted 'right now' as the next two minutes, because at that point he said, "I was only going to ask, are you sure you can break the agreement?"

Jack slowed a little and glanced over. Daniel didn't look at him. Jack looked ahead and saw the stargate in the distance. "I don't know," he said at last.

He glanced over again. Daniel nodded, still watching the ground ahead.

\-----

Carter was uncomfortable. Jack sympathized. If she remembered everything that happened on 933 -- and Doc Fraiser thought she would -- then she was bound to be feeling embarrassed right now. But Carter was good at getting through this stuff. She passed him a copy of the report, and handed another copy to Daniel as he entered the briefing room.

General Hammond leafed through his copy, then turned to Carter. "Major, go ahead."

Carter switched on the projection screen. There were two pictures: one of the inside of a mine, and the other a close-up of layers of rock.

"This is a trinium mine on P9A-933. As you can see," she pointed along the close-up with a pen, "the trinium runs in seams, much like silver does here on Earth. Around these seams is a layer of composite rock. When the trinium is mined, the rock is blasted or picked away to expose the seams."

She switched off the projection and faced the table. "When that's done, a fine dust is released into the air. The miners breathe this in all day, and it settles in their lungs."

"Like black lung disease?" Jack asked.

"Exactly. But on P9A-933, this composite rock has something in it that causes a psychotropic reaction. To put it simply, the rock dust acts as a narcotic." She sat down at the table.

"And that's why..." Jack looked from Carter to Daniel and back. Carter nodded. "That's why SG-11 and I were affected, sir."

"And why the miners on 933 are happy to be worked to death," Daniel commented. "They'd do anything to stay in the mines."

"Why didn't we encounter this before?" Hammond asked. Jack had just been thinking the same thing.

Daniel looked at Carter, then at Jack, but his expression was cryptic. Daniel sat forward, closing the report and fiddling with his pen. "Well, when we were there before, we only got a quick look at the mines, and none of us went deep inside, even though the miners coming out looked unhealthy, like they were starving to death. We just wanted the trinium, and didn't want to know too much about how we got it."

Jack sat back, looking at the table, and lifted an eyebrow. Daniel's use of 'we' was interesting. Daniel had wanted a closer look. Daniel had wanted to know exactly how the trinium was mined. Daniel had been vetoed.

"When SG-11 arrived on the planet," Teal'c said, "they were told the trinium shipment was not ready for transport. In the spirit of the agreement between our two worlds, they volunteered to help the miners and were exposed to the dust. When Major Carter and I went to find them, we were also exposed. My symbiote protected me from its narcotic properties."

General Hammond nodded. "In light of this information, future teams to the planet will wear protective gear."

Jack looked up. "General?"

Hammond faced him. "Yes, Colonel?"

Jack briefly glanced at Daniel, who was watching him. "Future teams, General? I, uh, I broke the agreement we had," he said, although Hammond already knew this.

"You were not authorized to do that," Hammond said.

"I know, General. But the head guy, Tarwhatever--"

"Tarbo," Daniel put in.

"Tarbo doesn't know that."

General Hammond gave Jack a long look, and Jack knew from experience, that look meant there was nothing he could do about this. He clenched his jaw.

"I already sent SG-9 there to renegotiate the terms. It's settled, Colonel."

Jack looked down at his hands, flat against the table. "Yes, sir."

General Hammond pulled back from the table. "Dismissed."

Jack stood up and saw Daniel's brusque exit. For half a minute, he considered following Daniel to his office, letting him vent and use Jack as his target for all he hated about the military, but he decided against it. He didn't feel up to it. Especially since he happened to think Daniel was right this time.

\-----

Daniel stood in front of his closet. He'd put it off long enough. It was time to do laundry. He checked his watch and saw that it was too late to drop it off at a laundromat and have it done for him. And in a way, he was relieved.

The thought of 933 -- the thought of SGC continuing to send more teams back there -- made him ill. And it was out of his hands. He had gone to see General Hammond privately, after the meeting -- _lord, let Jack never find out about that_ \-- but it was no use. Infuriatingly, Hammond seemed to agree with Daniel on some level, but military practicality -- or greed, whatever you wanted to call it -- ruled out any argument. He wouldn't even listen to the suggestion that they insist the miners wear protective suits, saying it was up to the inhabitants to decide. So easy to make that judgment call when you'd never seen emaciated miners grinning at you with skull-like smiles.

But. He had get past this, like so many other decisions he didn't agree with. And the way to get past it was not to think about it. He had plenty of other things he could think about, some things which were clamoring to be thought about, in fact, but he didn't feel up to facing those right now, either. So laundry was looking good. Not that it required a lot of thought, but it was a nice distraction. He reached for the detergent and checked to see how much was left.

There was a knock on the door. Daniel wandered over, checked through the peephole, and unlocked it. He squinted into the detergent bottle, trying to decide if there was enough left for one load.

"Hey," Jack said as he entered. "What're you doing?"

"Laundry," Daniel said, frowning at the bottle and setting it down. "What's in the bag?"

Jack opened the bag like he had no idea what was in it. He pulled out two thick slabs wrapped in paper and smiled uneasily.

"Steak."

Daniel stared at him. "Steak," he repeated. "Is today Thursday?"

Jack dropped the slabs back into the bag. "No," he said, going into the kitchen. He came back out without the bag. "I also brought beer." He stood there, hands shoved in pockets, and looked around, as if he'd never seen the place before. "We said we'd try the steaks again, next day off, remember?"

Daniel folded his arms over his chest and furrowed his brow. "Jack, tomorrow is our day off. And we said we'd try grilling the steaks. I don't have a grill."

Jack smiled at him, a smile that made Daniel wary. "Ah ha," Jack said, and walked back to the front door, opened it, disappeared for a couple of seconds, and came back inside, carrying a box. He headed for the balcony. Still wary, Daniel followed him and stood in the open doorway.

"That's a hibachi," he said as Jack pulled it out of the box.

"I know it is. Just what your balcony needs, I always said."

"You never said that."

Jack gave him a dark look, took off his jacket, and handed him the empty box. "Then I thought it. Whatever. It's just big enough for two steaks. Perfect."

Daniel watched him arranging the hibachi on the balcony, lining it up like a museum piece. "And did you bring charcoal?"

"Of course." Jack turned and smiled. "So go get it and let's get this baby fired up," he said, rubbing his hands together.

Daniel looked down and smiled, not knowing what to say. He went to get the charcoal. He stood there, leaning against the doorframe, and watched Jack get the charcoal burning. He pondered ordering out for Chinese food when Jack kept scowling and saying it wasn't hot enough. He fetched the steaks when Jack decided they could try it. He also brought the beers.

The last of the sunset was fading into night. Low light from inside cast a warm, weak glow over the balcony. Jack sat on the balcony floor, leaning against one of the rails. From time to time, he reached over and prodded a steak with the tongs he had also brought. Daniel handed him a beer and crouched down by the door, looking past Jack into the distance. The breeze stirred, filling the balcony with the smell of charcoal and steak, and disturbing short wisps of hair over Daniel's forehead.

_I want to kiss him_, Jack thought, with a pang of... Not guilt, or surprise. It was a pang of longing. He took a breath and opened his beer.

Daniel sat back, cross-legged, and examined his beer bottle like it was some artifact from Egypt. Without looking up, he said, "Why did you bring me a hibachi?"

Jack prodded a steak. "I thought you could use one."

"Ah." Daniel gave him a sidelong look. "Buying me a hibachi was easier than inviting me over to your place?"

Jack lifted his eyebrows, ready to deny it. Except, damn him, it was partially true. After today's 933 meeting, he didn't know how to invite Daniel over. _J okay with it_ haunted him.

"Are you saying you can't use one?" he asked.

Daniel faced him, serious. "That's not answering my question."

Jack took a drink of beer. Well, here goes, he thought, feeling like he was about to bungee jump off the balcony. "Daniel, you are always invited to my place."

Daniel was silent for a moment, watching him. Jack thought he detected something new, something warm, in Daniel's look, but the light was bad, and he couldn't be sure. He just waited.

"That didn't answer my question, either," Daniel said, "but thanks."

Jack looked at him, silent. Daniel looked back, silent. Jack felt comfortable, finally. Oh, he still wanted to kiss him. That pang was still there. But this was nice, too. He didn't look away for a long time.

It was night now. A few stars came out. The smell of steak surrounded them.

"Steaks are done," Jack said. Daniel was already up, going to get plates and silverware. As Jack placed one steak on Daniel's plate, he said, "You like them rare, right?"

"Rare's fine," Daniel said, still standing, ready to go back inside.

Jack patted the concrete beside him. "Let's eat out here."

Daniel looked around. It was a nice, clear night. A little cold, but the steak was nice and hot. He sat down beside Jack and cut into his steak. He was starving.

So, apparently, was Jack. They attacked their steaks and didn't talk until almost every bite was gone. Jack set his plate aside. "Not bad."

Daniel speared his last bite. "I bet yours are better."

"They are. But this wasn't bad at all." He gave Daniel another long look, this look he'd been giving Daniel all evening, this look Daniel couldn't become used to, not yet. Daniel swallowed.

This look, he thought, is dangerous. And not for any of the normal reasons why Jack's looks were dangerous. This time, it wasn't to do with Jack. When Jack looked at him that way, it brought back, in furious, vivid, Technicolor detail, his dream.

It had been five days ago, and it had never left him alone, not completely, despite his best efforts to keep his mind on everything else in the world. On one level, he accepted that, after spending a night with Jack which was, after all, pretty good, having an erotic dream about Jack wasn't so far-fetched. He might have anticipated it. But what had frightened him was the intensity of it: the raw, blatant lust. Was that really what he felt for Jack, he asked himself, and came up with a big 'I don't know.' Attraction, yes, as new and strange as it was to cope with. Lust? Base, animal lust? But he couldn't just say no to that, because the fact was, reliving that dream was definitely arousing.

Which was why Jack looking at him that way was dangerous. Because Jack's look was pretty clearly saying, _I want you_.

Daniel looked away. If he was seeing that in Jack's look, what must Jack be seeing in his? He looked at the hibachi.

"I can't believe you bought me a hibachi," he said, shaking his head a little. _And I want to kiss you for it, but that I can believe_.

"Yeah. But you gotta admit, more practical than roses."

Daniel stared at him. Roses? Jack frowned a little, shook his head. "I don't know why I just said that."

Daniel took a deep breath and stood up. He looked over the balcony. "Wow, it's really cold tonight." He needed to think, he needed to move, he needed to do laundry, he needed to do something...

"Daniel." _No, no, that calm, reassuring voice isn't going to work tonight_.

Daniel lifted his beer bottle to his lips. "I'm, uh..." He took a drink of beer. "I'm going inside now."

"Daniel."

He went inside.

He paced a little. He put the beer bottle on a bookshelf. He went to the kitchen and put the rest of the charcoal in a cabinet. He took off his glasses and wiped them with his shirt before putting them back on. He walked back and got the beer bottle, and registered that Jack was inside now, closing the door to the balcony. Jack wanted to bring him roses. Or something.

"Daniel."

Daniel stopped walking. He looked down at the beer bottle in his hand. He felt Jack's hand on his arm, warm, firm, strong. He wanted to turn around and simply fall into that touch, let those hands hold him, and let it all be not wrong.

He moved away from Jack's hand, set the beer bottle down on a table and turned around. He looked at Jack. Jack looked at him, frowning a little.

"It was a stupid thing to say," Jack said.

Daniel closed his eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath. "It's not that." He opened his eyes. Jack was still frowning, but he stepped closer, scanning Daniel's face. There was that 'you-are-a-strategic-map-and-I'm-going-to-figure-you-out' look again. The frown faded.

"Let go," Jack said softly. Daniel's eyes widened as a chill ran down his spine. _He knows_.

"I can't," he said evenly, keeping control.

Jack gave a short, half nod, accepting this. He turned, shoved his hands in his pockets, seemed like he would walk away, go home. Daniel slid his hands in his pockets and stood still. Jack cast him a brief, assessing look, then sat down on the sofa. Daniel looked down at him, brow furrowed.

"I brought you the hibachi because of 933," Jack said, sitting back, looking away.

"You what? Why?"

Jack shrugged. Daniel sat down in the chair opposite, puzzling over this. After a moment of silence, Jack said, "I wasn't okay with it. I was never okay with it." He looked into Daniel's eyes. "It wasn't my decision to make."

Daniel stared at him. "You think... You think I'm blaming you?"

Jack shrugged again. "Maybe not blaming, no. But unhappy, yes."

Daniel almost laughed, this was so unreal. "So you bought me a hibachi. Because I was unhappy with the way things turned out on 933."

Jack frowned a little. "Well, if you put it that way, okay, it sounds a little nuts, I admit. But give me a break here. I've never dated another guy."

Daniel's breath disappeared in one big swoosh, reappeared as a small, silent gulp. "Dated? Are we dating?"

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Hey, you were the one calling it a date back when it was still steaks at O'Malleys, remember? Back before... you know." He gestured uncertainly.

Oh yeah, Daniel knew. "I remember," he said. He adjusted his glasses. "I guess I didn't..." He paused for a moment. "Are we dating? Really?"

Jack gave him a closed, doubtful look. "We don't have to be."

"I didn't mean..."

"Whatever." Jack sat forward and took a deep breath. "Okay, look. I'm no good at this. But you're not being much help, either. So you tell me: what's going on here, if we're not dating?"

Daniel sat back. He looked out the windows to the balcony. The hibachi sat there, alone and cold, next to two empty plates neatly stacked by Jack. The night outside was a deep, deep blue, clear and dotted with stars. Daniel was silent. Jack waited.

There was an ugly piece of... artwork, Jack guessed you could call it, primitive artwork... hanging on Daniel's wall opposite. Jack stared at it until he was sick of it, and decided he better cut his losses. He wasn't going to get an answer, and that in itself was an answer. The pang resurfaced, really kicking him now, but he silently told it to shut up and leave him alone.

And out of nowhere, Daniel said, voice quiet and strangely cold, "I dreamed I fucked you."

Jack inwardly panicked for a split second, a split second he spent staring at the ugly artwork. Then he calmed himself, told himself this was not something entirely unexpected -- no, the unexpected part was Daniel admitting it -- and shifted his gaze to Daniel. Whose face was just as expressionless as his voice. Oh man, he hated when Daniel did this.

"That's interesting," he said. It didn't come out quite as calm and non-chalant as he wanted it to, but it did work: Daniel's eyes widened a little. He got an expression: faint disbelief. _Ha_.

Might as well play his advantage. "Nice dream, was it?" he asked, lifting one eyebrow.

Ooooo. Daniel looked pissed now. Interesting. If Jack weren't too busy quietly freaking out, he might actually enjoy this.

"Since you ask, yes, it was."

Jack couldn't quite smile, which was probably just as well because that would only piss Daniel off even more, but he said, "Good."

Daniel looked skeptical. "And this doesn't bother you at all?"

Jack smoothed a hand over his pants. "I get the feeling it bothers you more," he said, then added, "But since you ask, I'm not one-hundred percent comfortable about it, no." Daniel started to say something, so he kept talking. "But if you're asking, am I disgusted with you, the answer's no. There. Now you know."

Daniel was quiet. Daniel was thinking. Uh-oh. Not always a good sign. "Oh," Daniel said, raising his eyebrows. Then he stood up and took his empty beer bottle into the kitchen. Jack watched him, frowning, gave the ugly artwork another glare, and felt... disappointed. Deflated. Confused.

He got up and grabbed his jacket.

"Leaving?" Daniel was standing in the area in front of the kitchen. That look could have meant 'don't go' or could have meant 'yes, please go', Jack wasn't sure. He held his jacket in one hand and shrugged.

"I guess."

Daniel stepped down into the living room, not looking at him, and said, "You don't have to," as he wandered into the bedroom.

Hallelujah! Daniel was finally obvious.

Or not.

Because when Jack stepped into the bedroom after him, Daniel was standing in front of his open closet, tossing stuff into a laundry basket. Jack dropped his jacket onto a chair and came up behind him. He knew Daniel knew he was there. Daniel paused, resumed futzing with laundry. Jack cupped the back of Daniel's neck with his palm. Daniel took a breath, dropped a sock, slowly turned around.

The look in his eyes wasn't exactly inviting. Jack kept holding his neck. _Don't screw this up, Daniel_, he silently willed.

Daniel, not short of surprises tonight, took Jack's face in his hands and kissed him, a really slow, thorough, nice nice nice kiss. Jack slid his arms around him, held him loosely, returned the kiss, just as slow, thorough, and nice. Daniel ran his hands over Jack's shoulders and down his back.

Jack pulled him closer. The kisses weren't going to stop, they kept getting better, and that was okay by Jack, even though part of him was still silently yelling _Help! I'm kissing Daniel!_ But that part wasn't even half now, so he just told it to shut up and leave him alone.

Daniel locked his arms around Jack's waist and pulled him even closer, until Jack had Daniel pressed against the doorframe of the closet. "Ow," Daniel said against Jack's lips. Jack moved back a little. Daniel's glasses were crooked, resting low on his nose. Jack slid them off, folded them carefully and set them on top of a dresser.

He looked into Daniel's eyes. No, not sure what they were saying, but he liked looking anyway. He liked that they looked back. He pressed a little closer. Body heat.

Daniel's hands moved up and down the small of his back. "What are you thinking?" he asked.

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Right now? Oh... I was just thinking, maybe one day we could do this naked." Okay, whoa, that popped out of nowhere. It did? He didn't remember thinking that. Whatever.

Daniel seemed amused. "One day as in now, or one day as in seven months from now?"

"Which one day do you prefer?"

Daniel narrowed his eyes a little. "That's really infuriating, you know."

"I know. And now seems like a pretty good idea to me," Jack said.

Daniel watched his hand glide down Jack's arm. "Well, it's not as if we've never seen each other naked before. I mean, we share a locker room, shower room..."

"That's different. Besides, you're not supposed to look." At Daniel's carefully bland look, Jack said, "You didn't look, did you?"

"Look? No, no, of course not. I might have glimpsed..."

"_Glimpsed?_ You glimpsed?"

Daniel furrowed his brow. "You never glimpsed?"

"Of course not." He paused. "Don't take it personally. Military training. Eyes forward."

"I see." Daniel didn't sound convinced. "You really never glimpsed?"

And then it hit him. Daniel was enjoying this. Ah yes, he should have predicted that. Daniel had knowledge Jack didn't, because Daniel had been glimpsing, and Jack hadn't. For a moment he imagined Daniel subjecting him to a torturously slow striptease -- the kind where he took off one sock two hours after the other -- because that was just the kind of thing Daniel might do, in the right mood. Oddly enough, the idea didn't sound all that bad.

Daniel wasn't in that mood, though, luckily. He started unbuttoning his shirt. Revealing absolutely nothing, since he had another shirt on underneath it. Jack stood back to give him room as he took it off and dropped it into the laundry basket. He pulled the other shirt off, too, tossed it in with the rest. Now he stood there in his undershirt.

Jack wasn't impatient; of course he'd seen Daniel's bare chest plenty of times. But, like he said, this was different. He sat down, watching Daniel steadily. Two seconds later got another jolt of freaking out because he was now on Daniel's bed, and the way things were going, Daniel was very shortly going to be naked and joining him in that bed. He smoothed one hand over the comforter and stayed calm.

Still undershirted, Daniel folded his arms over his chest. "This is a pretty one-sided getting naked, I must say."

Jack looked puzzled. "Huh?"

Daniel raised his eyebrows and nodded at him. Jack looked down at himself. "Oh. Oh, yeah, I see what you mean." Daniel leaned against the closet doorframe and watched Jack pull off his shirt. Not looking at him, Jack folded the shirt, and held it uncertainly. He glanced quickly at Daniel, then dropped it on the floor. He clasped his hands and rested his elbows on his knees, sitting there in his undershirt, looking at Daniel expectantly.

At this rate, they might both be naked next week or so.

Daniel sat down on the bed, a little apart. Jack turned his head, gave him a curious look, as if wondering what he would do next. Daniel pretended not to notice and unbelted his chinos. Jack bent down to take off his shoes and socks. Daniel found it easier to just keep moving, keep taking clothes off, and not stop to check on Jack, or stop to consider how incredibly weird this was. So. He was naked.

His courage failed him. Jack stood up to take off his pants and Daniel slid under the comforter. He shivered, not from cold. Jack turned around, clad only in boxer shorts, and rested his fists on his hips.

"That's cheating," he said.

Daniel gave Jack's boxers a significant look. "So's that."

Jack gave him a strange look, one that was a little unsettling, and reached for the comforter. He pulled it back with a flourish. Daniel held and released a breath, and lay there, very still. Jack sat down next to him. He watched Jack's gaze moving, very slowly, absurdly tentatively, down, down, detour around, down his legs to his feet, and finally back up, no detour this time. Daniel felt simultaneously cold and hot.

"Huh," Jack said.

Daniel frowned at him. Not exactly the reaction he was hoping for. Even a 'not bad' would have been better than 'huh'. He drummed his fingers on the mattress. "You going to take those off?"

Jack tore his gaze away. Daniel pulled the comforter back into place. Jack shrugged and stood up. "Yeah, okay." He slid his underwear off, and--

Okay. Daniel forgave the 'huh'. Because that was the first reaction that popped into his mind, too. As in, 'huh, I'm looking at Jack's cock, and there it is.' Glimpses (really not very many) notwithstanding. Jack was right; this was different.

He scooted over and Jack slid into bed next to him. They lay on their backs, not touching.

"Now what?" Jack asked.

"It was your idea."

Jack was quiet for a moment. "Me and my ideas. Wasn't going so bad before."

Daniel turned his head to look at him. "No, it wasn't," he said. Jack looked over, and there it was again. That dangerous look. Daniel's pulse leapt. Jack reached out and rubbed the back of Daniel's neck, pulling him into a kiss.

It was a really wonderful kiss, except Daniel didn't know where to put his body, so he held himself up awkwardly, one hand flat against the pillow next to Jack's ear. When they broke apart, Jack stared into his eyes for a long moment. Daniel tried to read that stare, looking for some clue, but all he saw was the same wary confusion he felt.

His wrist started to hurt. Slowly, he lowered himself until his arm rested on Jack's chest. Jack covered Daniel's hand with his own. He watched Jack touch his fingers, each one individually, examining them. Jack lifted Daniel's hand and rubbed the center of his palm with his thumb. Then he replaced it over his chest. Daniel tentatively pressed closer. They were touching now, skin to skin. Jack tensed a little, and gradually relaxed again.

"So," said Jack.

"So."

"Weird?"

"Oh, yeah."

Jack nodded. "Comfortable?" he asked.

"More or less. You?"

"Can't complain."

"Good, good." Daniel moved a little, and slid one leg over Jack's. Jack stroked along his arm, from wrist to shoulder. He began rubbing Daniel's back in slow circles. Daniel exhaled a breath and relaxed completely against him. Stayed that way for a very long time.

"That dream of yours..." Jack said.

Daniel narrowed his eyes. "What about it?"

Jack's gaze shifted away. In a casual tone, he said, "Oh, you know... Is that something..." The tone slipped a little.

"Isn't it a little early to be having this conversation?"

"Yes. You're right. Absolutely." Jack's relief was so obvious, Daniel smiled. Jack smiled back and resumed his back-rubbing. Daniel slid his hand across Jack's chest and around him, and kissed him, a leisurely, savoring kiss that melted into others, one after another.

Jack brought both hands around Daniel's back and held him, and Daniel pressed against him in a gentle crush. Warm ripples of sensation flowed through Daniel's body, drowning thoughts and doubts to leave only the pure physical need for touch. It felt so good to be touched, to be held.

No sense of urgency. Slow was good. It still felt a bit odd, to be holding Jack, naked, and feeling every part of him. Nice, but odd. So Daniel was in no rush, felt very languid in fact, and very lulled by Jack's steady, circular stroking of his back.

At a break from kissing, he gazed at Jack, and Jack gazed back, for a long, comfortable moment of silence. Finally Daniel said quietly, "We don't have to..."

"I know."

Daniel's fingers found the back of Jack's neck, the fuzz of short hair, and scratched there gently. "Is it okay if we just... sleep together?"

Jack reached up and combed his fingertips through Daniel's hair. "It's okay with me."

Daniel, warm and drowsy, slid off of him, but settled close enough to still feel him. "Good. Get the light, would you?"

Jack turned off the light and Daniel drifted into asleep.

In the not-quite-dawn, Daniel woke up, and for a moment felt lost because there was someone in his bed. Then he remembered, relaxed, and moved closer to the warmth. He touched Jack's hair, cheek, neck, his arm, wrist, and hand. He touched Jack's chest, tried running his fingertips through Jack's chest hair and found the experience strange yet pleasing. He tried it again, and this time let his fingers glide lower, over Jack's stomach. And, all in all, it was unfair for Jack to be in such great shape. Yeah, yeah, military and all that, but he had the perfectly flat gut of a guy half his age, and Daniel seriously doubted he worked that hard for it.

He pressed his palm flat against Jack's abdomen. No flab there. His palm followed the curve of Jack's body to his hip, and still no flab. All firm, tough muscle. Curious, he let his hand keep following the curve, down Jack's hip to his thigh. At which point Jack shifted onto his back and said, "Good morning to you, too."

Daniel smoothed his hand up Jack's thigh. "It's not morning yet," he pointed out.

"Copping a feel, are we?" Jack rolled and stretched his shoulders.

"Not much of one. Yet."

"Yet."

Daniel rested his hand on Jack's stomach. "I could stop," he offered, half hoping Jack would say yes.

"Don't let me stop you," Jack said, running his hand along Daniel's shoulder.

Daniel swallowed. "Oh. Okay."

So he slid his hand lower, and lower, and he hadn't known what to expect but this was _ohgodohmygod_ very strange. Familiar, yet completely not. Different, yet really not that different at all. Weird.

And warm. Getting warmer, beneath his hand. Moving, beneath his hand. He couldn't believe he was doing this, was doing this to Jack -- yet who else but Jack? -- couldn't believe he actually wanted to be doing this. To Jack. But, yes, he wanted to, because it was weird, interesting, and one hell of a turn-on.

He got adventurous. Cupped and rubbed and stroked, and about this time something registered through his fixated attention. Jack was breathing harder and louder, and his hold on Daniel's shoulder had tightened, and for a second Daniel thought he should stop. Stop? No. No, no. Duh. He encircled and held, and oh, this was so weird. Gripped and stroked and pulled and found the rhythm, yes, there it was, yes, yes, this was going to happen. This was going to happen soon. Just a little more, a little harder, a little faster. Oh, the sound Jack made. There. Oh god, how strange. And he couldn't let go, not yet, but he relaxed his hold and felt hot, sticky slickness over firm but pliant flesh. Very gently, very carefully caressed, and let go.

Jack was inhaling deep breaths. Daniel hesitated for a moment, then wiped his hand on the bedsheet because, well, he still had to do laundry at some point. He stretched out on his side, facing Jack, and wished the light were better because he couldn't really see much. Jack was still for a while, then he sat up.

"Don't move," he said quietly, and got out of bed. Daniel stayed where he was, yawned, and closed his eyes.

Dawn was closer. Weak light crawled through the windows. In the gloom, Daniel's apartment was sort of creepy, all dark, unidentifiable shapes -- not to mention hazardous, what with stairs and walls and furniture in random places. Sporting a newly bruised shin, Jack trailed his hand along the wall as he made his way back to the bedroom, and even this was not without peril, for his fingers touched something wooden yet furry along the way. He wondered if he could convince Daniel that there were ten commandments of interior decorating, and that one of them was _Thou shalt not mix wood with fur_.

In the bedroom, his feet did the guiding by following the trail of clothes. Just as Jack mentally patted himself on the back for following the safest route, he stepped on Daniel's belt, cursed softly, and fell into the bed. He reached for his foot and and massaged the indentation. Daniel stirred beside him.

"Hm?" Voice edged with sleep.

Jack let go of his foot and stretched out, closing the distance between them, sliding both arms around Daniel, and pulling him close. He wanted to kiss Daniel, wanted to hold him and touch him. Something was awake inside him now; it was like hunger, only not so ruthless. He just... wanted Daniel.

Daniel moved around in his arms, getting comfortable, settling against him. He felt Daniel yawn against his shoulder. Uh-oh. All signs were pointing toward Daniel going back to sleep. Jack debated his options, set his goal, and decided on his strategy. He had every confidence in this strategy. It had worked on him, after all.

He touched. Daniel's shoulder and back, arm, side, hip. He flavored the touches with kisses, to Daniel's brow, temple, ear, and neck. The neck kiss triggered a shivery squirm, so he tried that one again and was rewarded with more neck to kiss, and, yes, a sigh. He actually got a sigh out of Daniel, and it wasn't a sigh of frustration. Oh, this was going to be good. Going to be? Nah, it already was good.

His fingers skimmed along Daniel's hip, over to his stomach, up to his chest. Went looking for hairs -- he knew Daniel was smooth, but was he _that_ smooth? Apparently so. Huh. And while looking, he decided to test for his own secret sensitivity. He pinched one nipple.

"Ow."

Whoops. "Sorry," he murmured against Daniel's neck, between kisses. He smoothed away the hurt, caressing in slow glides. Then he had to hold Daniel again, bring him into a kiss as Daniel wrapped his arms around him. Daniel eased onto his back, bringing Jack with him, to settle in his heat.

Whoa. Strategy worked, and then some. Not only was Daniel harder than hell, he was obviously horny as hell, too. Jack reflected on the unlikelihood of ever using "Daniel" and "horny" in the same sentence, but after all, they'd been tossing unlikelihoods out the proverbial window all night. The reflection didn't last long, because there was too much to be enjoyed. Daniel horny was a restless, somewhat demanding Daniel.

And these were demands that Jack, for once, could accommodate: touching, kissing, biting (_whoa, Daniel_), rubbing. His hands resumed exploring, down that smooth chest, over the equally smooth stomach and belly... and stopped. Jack hesitated. At precisely the wrong moment, his little inner freak-out had decided to kick in, not with the now easily ignored refrain of _Are you nuts? This is Daniel!_ Oh, no, this time it had played dirty with _You're about to touch another guy's dick_. And it worked. His hands stopped, and he hesitated.

Daniel became less restless, and blinked at him. Oh, no. Not the blink.

"You, uh... don't have to," Daniel said evenly, and he did a pretty good job of hiding his disappointment, Jack had to admit. Jack might not have caught it if he hadn't been listening for it. His face burned and he winced.

"I know." Jack swallowed. The words 'I want to' were so close, right there, but he couldn't quite get them out. He had one hand flat on Daniel's belly, ridiculously locked in place, being cooked by Daniel's body heat.

He looked at Daniel, and moved his tongue against his teeth, trying to get the words out. Daniel wasn't quite frowning, but he looked at him oddly, his eyes giving Jack the old x-ray vision scrutinizing treatment.

"I..." Jack started. So close. Just two more words to go. "I, I want..."

Okay. "I want" seemed to work as well as "I want to" because Daniel's look changed and he moved again, moved sensuously against Jack. Daniel slid his hand down Jack's arm and took his hand. Jack realized why and took a deep breath. He could do this. Daniel had done it. He could do this. But instead of what he suspected, Daniel let go, and brushed the back of hand against Jack's palm. Jack fit his hand to Daniel's, and then... _oh, Daniel_. Daniel held his own flesh, Jack's palm held Daniel's hand.

At first he just held on, as it moved. Held on and got used to the ride. Then he caressed Daniel's wrist and knuckles and fingers. And then, without fanfare, the inner freak-out died, because this was Daniel, and now he really wanted to. He gripped Daniel's hand and moved it -- was blinked at for this, he didn't fail to notice -- and wrapped his hand around Daniel's cock. Okay, yes, there it was. He was holding Daniel's cock. Daniel's very hard, very full, very hot, very slick cock, actually. Wow. Weird. He squeezed and pulled. Daniel shuddered and writhed. Weird, but... wow.

He kept doing that, and liked watching Daniel react with each pumping squeeze, was beginning to love feeling Daniel react. It was certainly triggering a few echoing reactions in Jack. He was doing this, he was liking doing this, he was doing this and liking doing this to Daniel.

Not far to go. He could feel it. He guessed at timing and kissed Daniel's neck. Found that certain spot and feasted on it. Daniel held onto him and moaned as he came. Everything struck at once: he made Daniel moan, he made Daniel come, he felt Daniel come. Wow.

Daniel sank against the mattress, catching his breath. Jack drew back, decided he probably hadn't left a hickey -- thank god, because Daniel would kill him if he had -- and very carefully let go. He propped himself up on one elbow and looked at Daniel. This was a Daniel he'd never seen before, the Daniel who was sweaty and bleary and messy after sex. Not bad at all.

He kissed Daniel, softly, and lay down next to him, their arms touching. After a while, Daniel got up, and Jack started to doze. He woke up when Daniel came back, waited until Daniel had settled next to him, then went to sleep.

He woke up in daylight, and Daniel was already awake, propped up with a pillow, reading. Jack peeked under the comforter. Daniel was still naked, except for the glasses. Jack tilted his head to read the book's spine, still didn't know what the hell it was, and settled back against the pillow.

"Coffee?" Daniel asked, closing the book and setting it aside.

Jack yawned and stretched. "Coffee."

Daniel rubbed Jack's hair with his fingers. Jack lay there and let him, comfortable and still a little sleepy. After a while, Daniel said, "Are we okay?"

Jack glanced up at him. "I think so, don't you?"

Daniel thought it over. "Yes. I think so."

Jack got comfortable again and closed his eyes. He felt Daniel get out of bed, heard Daniel open drawers and stuff, heard Daniel take a shower. A little later, he smelled coffee. He got up, helped himself to Daniel's shower, got dressed, and found Daniel in the kitchen, pouring him coffee.

Jack took a drink. Daniel leaned against the counter. "So, Jack..." he said, in a calm, neutral tone, raising his eyebrows.

Jack looked at him warily. "Yeah?"

"Are you going to buy me an appliance every time we get together like this?" Daniel asked. "Because I could really use a new toaster."

"I'll keep that in mind," Jack said drily. _Smart ass_.

He finished his coffee. Daniel finished his. They stood in the kitchen for a while. He watched Daniel wash the coffee cups.

"So. I'll be going, I guess."

Daniel gave him a short, half nod. "Yes. Okay."

Jack waited for a few moments. Daniel leaned against the counter. Jack went over to him and hesitated. Goodbye kiss? Hug? He didn't have any instructions for this stuff.

Daniel stared at him, wary or inviting, Jack couldn't tell, and it was unnerving that Daniel's look could have meant either, or both.

Jack attempted a smile. "Bye," he said. He rested his hand on Daniel's shoulder.

"Bye."

"See you tomorrow."

Daniel's eyes never left his. "Yes. See you there."

Jack kept his hand on Daniel's shoulder for a while longer and patted it.

"Bye," he said again, letting go and sliding his hands into his pockets. He left.

(the end)


End file.
